


Retrospect

by Decaykid



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mention of Rachel Amber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decaykid/pseuds/Decaykid
Summary: She watches as they take him away in cuffs when the numbness ebbs away and pain takes it place. There's a sharp pain in her chest, as though a knife is carving out a hole and the tears begin to fall.
How did they get here? How did things come to this?
Most importantly, how hadn't she noticed?





	

She watches as they take him away in cuffs when the numbness ebbs away and pain takes it place. There's a sharp pain in her chest, as though a knife is carving out a hole and the tears begin to fall.

How did they get here? How did things come to this?

Most importantly, how hadn't she noticed?

They partied together, attended class together, got high together, shit talked Blackwell and Arcadia Bay together, they were going to rule the world together.

Now that's vanished, just like Rachel Amber, buried and to never come back.

They're best friends, have been ever since she was five and he was six. They met at the pool where the Otters used to meet before Blackwell High was built. His mother had dragged him there, telling him it's good to get exercise, to get out of the house, to make new friends. He wasn't having any of it. Victoria had immediately been intrigued by him. She approached him, befriended him, and even convinced him to get into the pool with her. From that day a bond between them was forged; undefinable yet unbreakable.

There's no such thing as friendship when you're rich. Just people looking to network, business connections being made, people looking to get into your money, your power, your fame. Victoria learned

this at a young age, that people are nothing more than what they have in their wallet, and this is true for herself as well.

Nathan was the exception. He didn't care about his father, or legacy, or inheritance. Just like he didn't care about the pearls around Victoria's neck, given to her by her mother, or her silk scarf or Italian leather boots. He saw past all that, he saw the girl behind the expensive clothing and lavish lifestyle. She did the same for him. Though it took her a while. When his mental illness first began to manifest, she worried there was no "Nathan", just a void putting on whatever mask necessary to get by. But after a few years she learned that at the center of the manic, depressive and psychotic episodes is a boy who's terrified of the world, and more terrified of himself.

He was always afraid of being a monster.

After every fit of rage and meltdown, he'd come to her. He's explained to her that in those fits, he feels he's lost complete control, of his emotions, of himself, of life. But she helped him feel grounded, helped him feel like himself again.

Except for this time.

She thinks of everytime she'd kiss his trembling fingers, every tear she'd thumb away, every night spent laying awake with him whether wrapped in embrace, yelling and crying at one another or laying in complete silence, watching the shadows move through the night. How many confessions and apologies had he spoken into the crane of her neck when sobs wracked his body? How many hours spent laying in bed with him when the depression would hit, leaving him drained and lifeless? How many times had she held his hand when his gaze would unfocus, preoccupied with watching something beyond her view.

She'd kissed countless words from his mouth. Things like 'I'm a monster', 'All I do is destroy', 'I hurt everyone', 'I deserve the pain', 'I am nothing' and everything else she can't bare to hear him say. She traced every scar, even the new ones, always being mindful of her touch. She held him, sometimes tightly, as if she could somehow hug all the bad away, hug him tightly enough to shut up the thoughts and voices in his head.

All those hours. All those long nights. All those intimate moments, vulnerable moments, unforgettable moments... they mean nothing.

Or that's how it feels for Victoria as she watches the police cars pull away.

He never came to her about this, never asked for help. Instead he kept going on, as though nothing were wrong, as though his world wasn't falling apart, as though he wasn't falling apart.  
What good do all those moments mean, when he never reached out when he needed her the most?

Maybe she should've done more. Maybe she should've reached out. Like the day they first met. Maybe he got tired of always being the one to go to her, not the other way around.

She always thought that maybe it was her lack of empathy that drew him in. He carried a heavy burden and dark thoughts, and she just took it all in with stride, whether it be the abuse he dealt with at home, to the town talking or whatever aspect of his mental illness he was dealing with that day. She thought maybe it helped, that that's why he suck around, she never thought much of it, always accepted it as a condition of their friendship. Nathan telling her about the delusions or depression was no different to her than Taylor telling her the day's gossip.

Maybe she was wrong.

Maybe she's always been wrong.

Maybe they're bond wasn't as strong as she always supposed. Maybe he was just there simply because she was just there.

Maybe she's always been his only option.

Rachel Amber comes to mind. An awful jealousy burns through her veins and her stomach lurches.

She's feeling too much at once, she can't process it all.

Why did all this happen?

_How did they get here?_


End file.
